


Beneath These Twinkling Lights

by CGotAnAccount



Series: The ADVENTure Continues! [17]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: All Parents Alive, Boyfriends, Childhood Friends, First Crush, Fluff, Hunk/Lance - Freeform, M/M, Matt/Allura - Freeform, Mention of Ryan/James, Middle School Dance, Prom, Puppy Love, SHEITH - Freeform, others mentioned in passing - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CGotAnAccount/pseuds/CGotAnAccount
Summary: His braces feel like they're chafing the inside of his lips, and not even sucking the spit back into his molars seems to help. He just hopes they're not all gross and bloody when he's with Keith... what if he wants to, like, kiss or something?? Shiro doesn't even know how to kiss, and he's pretty sure Keith doesn't either, and neither one of them have ever said anything about it, and he thinks they might just be going to this thing as friends but he forgot to like ask after he got the tickets for him and Keith, and his mom gave him money for both of them, so that kind of makes it a date maybe, except he's only fourteen and Keith is only thirteen and he's pretty sure Mrs. Krolia and Mr. Tex would kill him if he tried to kiss Keith and-“Shiro?” His mom is smiling at him from the front seat. They're already parked in front of the school gym, and Shiro spent his whole planned 'calm down' time panicking in the back seat about his sweaty hands. “Do you have your tickets, sweetie?”
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: The ADVENTure Continues! [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2034982
Comments: 85
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Day 17 of ADVENTures!  
> Childhood Friends Sheith <3
> 
> This is going to be a 3 part thing, but for now it can stand alone.  
> Sub to this fic if you want to see the other parts - not the series :)

Shiro's gut hasn't stopped churning since he got out of the shower and realized that the time had finally come. His hands were all shaky when he tried to comb his hair into a nice part – but his bangs kept flopping back down, even when his mom tried to help him fix it with gel. He should have known then that he was going to be a wreck all night.

His palms are sweaty where they rest on his knees and he's probably leaving damp spots on his slacks, but they're going to get wrinkled anyway just sitting here in the backseat of his parents' station wagon as they keep going on and on about how they can't believe he's gotten so big and how they want to get pictures of him and Keith together and-

Oh man... just thinking of Keith makes him feel sweatier. He's probably going to sweat right through his dress shirt and vest. Did he even put deodorant on? Is he going to be all stinky when Keith gets close to him for the pictures? When are they even going to take the pictures?

And what if Keith wants to dance... he'll have to lift his arms and then Keith will see his sweaty pits... oh man...

His braces feel like they're chafing the inside of his lips, and not even sucking the spit back into his molars seems to help. He just hopes they're not all gross and bloody when he's with Keith... what if he wants to, like, kiss or something?? Shiro doesn't even know how to kiss, and he's pretty sure Keith doesn't either, and neither one of them have ever said anything about it, and he thinks they might just be going to this thing as friends but he forgot to like _ask_ after he got the tickets for him and Keith, and his mom gave him money for both of them, so that kind of makes it a date maybe, except he's only fourteen and Keith is only thirteen and he's pretty sure Mrs. Krolia and Mr. Tex would kill him if he tried to kiss Keith and-

“Shiro?” His mom is smiling at him from the front seat. They're already parked in front of the school gym, and Shiro spent his whole planned 'calm down' time panicking in the back seat about his sweaty hands. “Do you have your tickets, sweetie?”

Shiro pats his pocket, pulling out the two sparkly rectangles with their school's logo on it, and nods at her.

“Remember,” his dad adds, turning around in his seat to clap Shiro on the shoulder, “you can call us any time if you want to go home, and you never have to do anything you don't want to do, okay?” Shiro nods again, tongue thick in his mouth. His dad smiles at him, more than a little knowing. “Keith's a good kid, smart... handsome too. You're gonna be fine.”

“Thanks,” Shiro croaks, feeling his ears steam and suddenly needing to be out of the car. “I'll call you to pick me up when it's done?”

“Any time,” his mom assures him, “I talked to Krolia, you can stay over there tonight, or Keith can stay over with us, or no sleepover, just let us know, okay?”

“Y-yeah... thanks mom.” He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, counting to ten as he grips the door handle. “Okay, I can do this... I'm going now.”

His dad grins at him. “Go, be great.”

Shiro nods at him again and hops out of the car and into the cool night air. They agreed earlier that they would wait for each other outside, not wanting to look like nerds alone in the hallway, so Shiro slinks up to the doors of the gym and waves to his parents as they drive away.

He fishes his phone from his pocket and flips it open, meticulously beeping out 'I'm here' to Keith, even though Keith never checks his phone, and Shiro is at least twenty minutes earlier than they agreed to meet because he was nervous that they'd be late and maybe get into an accident and then Keith would be stuck waiting for him and-

Yeah.

He's about to slip his phone back into his pants when it chirps with an incoming text from Keith.

'k, we r close'

At least that gives Shiro less time to panic. He pockets his phone and then rustles through his other pocket to triple check that he still has the tickets. Just in case. His braces still feel funny, like his teeth got bigger when he was showering and now they're gonna look funny or something, and running his tongue over them obsessively doesn't seem to be helping. Plus, he's pretty sure he heard somewhere that stress causes pimples and he's probably gonna get a big honking zit right on his nose by the end of the night.

Krolia's giant red truck pulls into the parking lot with a roar that rattles the thoughts right out of Shiro's head. He's glad that he's up close to the door, otherwise her tires probably would have splashed nasty dirt slush all over his clean pants and then Keith wouldn't like him.

Well... Keith would probably still like him, he's not very good at keeping his clothes clean either, but that's not the point.

He can see her and Tex turning around to talk to Keith, probably telling him to call if Shiro is a total weirdo, and then his dad reaches out to ruffle the little sprout on the back of Keith's head as he flings the truck's door open and catapults himself onto the concrete.

“Ugh! Love you bye!”

Krolia honks twice, waving at Shiro as she brings the truck around and zooms out of the parking lot. Keith dashes over to him with his face all wrinkled, trying to flatten the back of his hair. “It's cold out here.”

Shiro nods, tongue once again stuck to the roof of his mouth as he looks at his friend. Keith's bright red button down looks nice – _really_ nice... and it looks like he put his shiny shoes on too. Shiro's mom made him wear his tonight, she said that his converse would ruin the line of his pants – whatever that means.

“Do you wanna go in?” Keith asks him, fidgeting as Shiro just stares at him like an idiot.

“Oh, right, yeah.” Shiro coughs into his fist, then offers an arm out to Keith like they do in those old movies. Keith takes it, because he's a good friend and isn't about to point out the fact that nobody does this anymore, and they might just be here as good friends and _oh god what is he doing_. “I have the um... tickets.”

“Cool.” Keith grins at him, still holding his arm. Shiro wonders if he can feel the thudding of his pulse in the crook of his elbow. “That's good, cause I don't.”

Shiro chuckles at his friend's joke, but he knows he sounds weird. He just needs to get out of his own head, it's just Keith after all. Except that Keith has never really ever been _just_ anything.

He pulls the door to the gym open and ushers Keith through to the little waiting area near the locker rooms, which is kinda awkward when he doesn't let go of Shiro's arm so they do this weird shuffle until the door bumps against Shiro's heel and sends him stuttering a step forward.

Their math teacher cocks an eyebrow at him. “Hey kids... tickets?”

Shiro stuffs his free arm in his pocket, praying they didn't fall out in the fifteen steps they'd taken since he last checked, but they're thankfully still there. The teacher takes them with a grunt, punching a hole in the ends before handing them back and waving them into the main gym area where the lights are dimmed and the latest pop hits are blaring through tinny speakers.

Keith smiles at him and gives his arm a pull, always the one to jump in headfirst. Shiro is always grateful for it though, his life would be less than half as fun without his best friend to come up with all the exciting things they do... like even coming tonight. Shiro probably wouldn't be standing in a gym covered in string lights if Keith hadn't asked him if he'd seen the flyer. Of course he had seen them around, and he knew the eighth grade dance was coming up... a few people had even asked him about it, but Shiro wasn't really interested in standing in the corner watching his classmates do the Cotton Eyed Joe dance for a few hours – unless it was with Keith. He'd do anything if Keith is the one asking.

So when Keith pulls him over to a table covered in glitter and cheap party favors Shiro can't help but smile at him, even if it shows the braces that might have gotten bigger in the past few hours.

“Hey um... I like your shirt,” he offers as they settle into their chairs, still sitting close enough that Keith hasn't had to let go of him yet. “It's really red.”

“Thanks,” Keith smiles at him and brushes his bangs from his eyes. “I like your vest and everything, it makes you look like one of those guys on the covers of those books in Ms. Montgomery's classroom.”

That hadn't been quite the effect Shiro had been going for, but Keith is kinda right, even if their shirts are usually a little more billowy than the purple button down Shiro has on underneath it.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” Shiro fishes around in the pocket he had stuffed his phone into, hoping he hadn't smooshed the flowers in there as he pulls them out with an awkward flourish, “I think this is for your uh... wrist maybe? Or I think there's a pin too, I'm not sure.”

Keith laughs, but it's not mean, and sticks his skinny arm out for Shiro to slide it on. He grins down at it and then fishes a similar one out of his pocket – but red flowers instead of purple. “I got you one too.”

They're both smooshed, and they're both perfect.

Shiro likes how their matching wrists look with their arms together like this, even if he thought it might be stupid when his mom gave it to him earlier. Sometimes moms have good ideas too, maybe.

They sit there together, just touching arms and watching their classmates dance to music that Shiro doesn't really like, but is happy to tolerate for Keith – and then a slow song comes on, and all of a sudden the spotlight flooded dance floor starts to thin out. Keith glances up at Shiro, who is busy worrying his lip against the edge of a bracket, and gives his arm a squeeze.

“Do you think we're supposed to dance?”

Shiro almost startles at the question – he knew it might be a possibility, probably if Keith thought they were going like _together_ together and not just two losers, and they _are_ wearing matching flower things now, so it makes _sense_ that he might think they should be dancing like the other together people are, but-

“We can,” Shiro shrugs, trying to suss out how Keith feels about it without giving his nerves away, “if you want to, but we don't have to just cause we're supposed to.”

Keith nods at him, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

The song passes, then another one starts, equally slow, and he looks back up at Shiro – swallowing hard, almost like he's nervous too as he wipes his free hand on his pants. “Well, what if we just kind of danced right here?”

“Okay.” Shiro stands too fast, nearly dragging Keith up and tripping them both on the leg of the table. “ _Oops-_ ”

“Guess you really wanted to dance,” Keith laughs again, untangling their arms just to kind of tangle them in a new way. They're a little bit over-under, and a lot bit stiff.

“I'm not really sure how to do this,” Shiro admits quietly, hoping that if he beats Keith to noticing he won't make fun of him... not that Keith would ever make fun of him, probably. “So uh... if you do...”

“Nope!” Keith chirps, grinning up at him as he steps in a little bit closer, “but I think you just kinda... hug and sway?”

“Oh.” That sounds easy enough to Shiro, so he shuffles a little closer too, sliding his arms around Keith's back to do the hugging. He totally knows how to hug, probably. “Like this?”

“I think so.” Keith shrugs under his arms and his own come to wrap around Shiro's waist, cause he's so much shorter. Shiro could probably tuck him right under his chin, which... sure is a thought. “Seems about right.”

Then they just kinda... sway.

It should probably be more awkward than it is. It probably looks a lot more awkward than it feels, at least. But Shiro is pretty pleased with the situation considering his sweaty hands are safely hidden from view and he doesn't think he has any pit stains yet. Of course, Keith probably never has to worry about those, even though he's always super sweaty in gym class, cause he's always cool as a cucumber. He never cares what anybody thinks about him, so why would he care about some dumb old dance? Shiro wishes he could be more like Keith sometimes... but then Keith looks up at him and smiles, and his face is so nice and open that Shiro can only be glad that he's himself – the person that Keith smiles at. He tries to smile back, but winces a little when his lip gets caught on the hook on his bracket.

“Ow...”

“Braces hurt?” Keith asks him, full of sympathy even though his own teeth are perfectly straight and white and pretty all by themselves. Shiro's just glad he doesn't have to wear the headgear anymore.

“Yeah, a little.” He shrugs, trying to play it all cool and tough like those guys in leather jackets in the movies – but without the smoking. He hasn't cried from his braces since they had to wrench the back ones off his molars and reposition them, which he thinks is pretty good. “Not too bad though.”

“Kay.” Keith nods at him and shuffles in a little closer, until their shiny shoes are bumping and probably scuffing each other. “If um... they hurt too bad let me know.”

“Kay.”

Keith is always thinking of Shiro like that, he's probably the nicest boy he's ever met – even if other people say he's kinda weird. Shiro doesn't think so though, they've been friends since as long as he can remember, and Keith always shared his cool lion toys even back then in the sandbox. He's never made fun of Shiro's big ears that stick out, or his braces, or the way he just got all clumsy when he grew six inches out of nowhere... Keith's not that kind of person. Keith is the best friend he's ever going to know, and he just hopes that they get to stay together forever.

For now though, getting to dance with him is enough, even if they might be doing it wrong... especially when he can feel Keith's arms squeeze around him when he gets brave, or maybe sleepy, and lets his forehead thunk onto Shiro's chest.

He wonders if Keith can feel how fast his heart is beating.

Maybe Keith's is beating just as fast? But it would be kinda hard for Shiro to find out... he'd have to hunch all the way down there and then try to come up with a reason to put his ear to Keith's chest, and he's pretty sure that's not what the older kids mean when they talk about playing doctor.

The song ends and Keith looks up at him but doesn't let go – he just stands there hugging Shiro and smiling, making that fizzy bubbly feeling in Shiro's chest grow like he's going to explode – like that time him and Keith tried to chug coke and eat mentos just to see what would happen and then threw up all over Mrs. Krolia's rose bushes... except in a good way.

“Hey Shiro?” Keith squeaks out, his hands bunching and unbunching in the back of Shiro's dress shirt. “Are we um... is this like a here _together_ sort of thing?”

He glances off to the side where there are a few couples trading kisses on the dance floor before Mr. Iverson can come break them up, then back down to their feet, like he's afraid to see Shiro's answer.

“It could be?” Shiro hedges, worrying his lip against his bracket again. He knows his ears are starting to steam, and if Keith looks up they're definitely gonna give him away. “I mean, if you want it to be like, a together thing.”

“But do _you_ want it to be?” Keith presses, mouth pinched when he looks back up at Shiro, “You don't always have to go along with what I want...”

Shiro shrugs, painfully aware of the sweat starting to pool on his hands where they're pressed against Keith's back. “I always want what you want, you're my favorite person... my Keith.”

It's not quite surprise that flickers across Keith's face before he lurches forward to bury it in Shiro's chest – and not quite disbelief either. Shiro is pretty sure it was a good face, even if Keith is trying to break his ribs hugging him.

“I want what you want too,” he muffles the words into Shiro's vest, not budging an inch from where he might be trying to smother himself, “you're my favorite person in the whole world and I- … I really like you.”

Shiro's heart catches in his throat, stalls, and restarts again beating double-time. Keith can _definitely_ feel it now. “I really like you too,” he croaks, leaning down to tuck his chin over Keith's head like he wanted to before. His hair is super soft, and he smells nice.

He just wishes his hands weren't all shaky and sweaty, or he might try to hold Keith's.

Maybe.

But Keith pulls back to look up at him, all pretty eyes and cheeks so red they match his shirt, and Shiro forgets wanting to do anything at all but just look at him.

“When we get older, um...” Keith trails off, swallowing hard as he smooths his hands down Shiro's vest. “Maybe we could... be... something?”

Shiro nods, probably too fast to be cool, but he's biting his lip so hard it's making the metal dig in and he thinks his heart is going to explode and Keith is so pretty and nice and _wow._ “Yeah, maybe like... next year? When we're fifteen?”

It seems awfully far away, being fifteen years old – especially since Keith is only thirteen now, and Shiro only just turned fourteen, but he's willing to wait for this. For _something..._ as long as it's with Keith.

Keith, who looks like Shiro's just given him the best present ever. Keith, who rises up onto his tip toes to bump his forehead against Shiro's, like he sees his dad do to his mom sometimes.

“Thank you, Shiro.”

“Don't thank me!” Shiro laughs and hopes his breath smells okay when he's up so close. “I would be anything with you, Keith.”

“Pinkie swear?” Keith asks with all the seriousness he can muster, unclenching one hand to bring it up to Shiro's face.

“Pinkie swear.” Shiro confirms, gratified that Keith's pinkie is as sweaty as his own hands are, even if it's probably a little gross when they slip together. “It's you and me forever.”

“Forever then,” Keith agrees, his pointy chin jutting out as he throws his arms around Shiro again.

Since the serious business is all sorted out, they just kinda go back to swaying – even when the songs start to get fast again and their classmates all get on the floor to do those stupid line dances. A few other kids try to wave them over, to get them to come join the big party, but Shiro is perfectly happy just to be here with Keith all night in their little bubble – even if it means they had to buy tickets to stand under the twinkle lights covering their gym ceiling.

“Hey, you think Iverson got up on a ladder to put those all the way up on the ceiling?”

Keith lifts his cheek from Shiro's chest to squint up into the rafters, then shakes his head. “Nah, he's kinda old... I bet they made Matt's dad do it. He could probably build a cool robot that hangs lights in like two seconds.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, why not? He's got a roomba.”

Shiro can't argue with that logic, so he doesn't, and decides to enjoy the ambiance in all its mystery.

Still, even with the pretty lights and the glitter and streamers and all that... the dance is honestly – with the exception of his best friend – kinda boring now that they've been here for like ever. He feels like he's got the whole dance experience down now, they looked at some people, did some dancing... he doesn't really trust the snacks over by the table if Mr. Coran made them...

And to be honest his feet kinda hurt from all this hugging and swaying. Shiny shoes are not nearly as comfy as his converse, even if his mom thinks they make his pants look better. He's pretty sure Keith would've thought his pants look okay either way.

“Hey, um... did you wanna have a sleepover tonight?” Shiro asks when the loud pop song finally stops blaring from the stage. “My mom said it was okay.”

“Yeah, mine too.” Keith nods and steps back a little to look around. Shiro looks with him, and realizes the gym is about half empty anyway. “Did you wanna come to my house so we can watch the stars?”

“Sure!”

“Okay, lemme call my mom...” Keith untangles their arms to fish around in his pocket, pulling out his phone with a look of surprise. “Oh wow, it's already like eight thirty.”

Shiro's surprised, but not surprised too – time seems to get away from them pretty often.

“Hi mom,” Keith says into the phone, then hunches his shoulders and blushes, shuffling a few feet away as Mrs. Krolia talks to him. “No, we didn't. No... _moooooom._ ”

Shiro grins at his friend as he huffs and crosses one arm across his chest with a pout. Mrs. Krolia is always funny – but especially when she's teasing someone who isn't Shiro.

“Shiro is gonna stay over tonight, okay? Can you just come pick us up? And ask dad to get the star fort ready?” He pauses, chewing on his thumbnail as he listens to her, then smiles. “Yeah... thanks mom, see you soon, love you bye.” He flips his phone shut and turns back to Shiro. “She'll be here in like ten minutes.”

“Neat.” Shiro nods, then jerks a thumb out into the hallway. “I'm gonna use the bathroom before we go.”

“Kay.”

He's washing his hands when Ryan waves at him as he steps up to the other sink. “Hey, man.”

“Hi, Ryan.” Shiro waves back with a smile, Ryan is one of his favorite people to study with, even if Keith doesn't really like his best friend. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Ryan nods, then smiles at him like he knows a secret. “Did you and Keith have fun? I saw you two dancing.”

“Yeah, it was really cool... we liked the little snowflake decorations that the key club made – that was you guys, right?”

“Yeah, they took forever to cut out. James got super picky about how many points each one was supposed to have so we had to get rid of all the four cornered ones for the string.” He shakes his head with a laugh as he dries his hands on his pants. “Boyfriends, right?”

“Oh!” Shiro squeaks, more than a little caught off guard. “I didn't know you two were together.”

“Aren't you and Keith?” Ryan asks, avoiding the question with the beginnings of a blush. “I just kinda figured you could tell since... ya know.”

“Us? No... not yet at least.” He can't help ducking his head, a little shy and a little sheepish as he scuffs at a loose tile on the floor. “I kinda thought we had to be like... older.”

Ryan shrugs, but he's still smiling when Shiro looks up again. “I dunno... sometimes maybe you know? Anyway, have a good night, dude.”

Shiro watches him go as he dries his hands. Ryan is a smart dude... maybe he's onto something.

The thought pokes at him the whole drive to Keith's house, even when Mrs. Krolia ruffles his bangs and asks if they had a good time. He thinks he said yes, because he did – he always has the best time with Keith, of course. She just gives him a knowing smile when they get home, stopping them in the living room to take a picture for Shiro's mom before letting the two boys dash up the stairs with the promise of bringing up a plate of snacks in a few minutes.

Mr. Tex is just finishing setting up the fort when they burst into Keith's room and he accepts a hug hello from Shiro as Keith scrambles into the blanket-draped canopy and pillow nest tucked under the big bay window. It's Shiro favorite place in the whole world, and Keith's dad goes through all the trouble of setting it up for them at least once a month. He's even got the telescope dialed in already.

Snacks arrive right as they've changed into the spare pajamas Shiro keeps in Keith's dresser, and it's the perfect way to finish the day. Mrs. Krolia even flicks the light off and shuts the door as she heads downstairs, leaving them alone in the glow of the sticky stars they put up on the ceiling back in third grade.

It's quiet.

Keith looks really nice in the moonlight that comes in from the big window – especially when he grabs Shiro's sleeve and tugs him over to look at Mars. It makes him think of Ryan's words again, and he can feel himself going hot all over.

“Hey Keith?” he asks into the quiet after they've brushed their teeth and settled down into their little fort – their two sleeping bags zipped together into one huge one like always.

“Yeah?”

There's a rustling as Keith turns to look at him, his face curious and open where it's awfully close to Shiro's.

“Fifteen is a long way away.”

A private little smile curls Keith's lips and he ducks his head. “Yeah... but I think it'll be worth it, right?”

“Yeah, of course...” Shiro trails off, swallowing hard as he wiggles a tiny bit closer, his hand creeping to find Keith's in between their bodies. “But um... do you think maybe... sometimes you know?”

There's a frown line between Keith's eyebrows as he looks up at Shiro, but his fingers creep too – until they're touching in a way that's almost holding hands. “Know what?”

“That sometimes someone is gonna be really special to you for your whole life?”

“Oh. Well, yeah.” Keith nods, his hair moving across the pillow and into Shiro's space, like Shiro has said the most obvious thing in the world... and maybe he has? “I don't need to be fifteen to know that you're gonna be that.”

Shiro sucks in a breath, and can't even be embarrassed when it whistles spit past the rubber bands on his braces, because Keith sounds so _sure._

“Can I kiss your cheek?” he whispers into the dark, barely able to hear himself over the pounding of his own heart.

“Only if I can kiss yours too.”

Shiro nods and wiggles forward until they're right up close, and Keith's hands clasps all the way with his. He can hardly believe his own daring when he swallows all the spit in his mouth and leans closer, just grazing the skin below Keith's eye, and presses a kiss there with a shuddering exhale.

Keith sighs with him and his hand clenches tight around Shiro's fingers. He waits for Shiro to pull away before stretching up and returning one right next to Shiro's mouth – because he's always been the brave one. Then he's pulling away with a shy smile of his own.

“Your lips are soft.”

“Thanks,” Shiro whispers back, grateful that his mom packs chapstick into his bag, “so are yours.”

“Thanks.”

They lay there for a moment, just smiling and breathing into the shared space... and then Keith yawns so hard it ruffles Shiro's bangs.

“Heh... I guess that means we should sleep.”

Keith buries his face into the pillow as he nods, blushing and sheepish. “Probably...” He peeks one eye out and squeezes Shiro's fingers again. “Goodnight, Shiro.”

Shiro squeezes back, feeling that squirmy ache again as he looks at Keith under the soft glow of the stars. “Goodnight, Keith.”

He closes his eyes and hopes he'll dream of the boy holding his hand.


	2. Prom

The tickets are definitely in his pocket... he made sure of it this time.

In fact, he's paper-clipped them into the inside pocket of his vest, because it's just a touch too small and he was worried the friction against his shirt would somehow work the tickets loose and then he'd have to be all 'Sorry Keith, I totally lost the tickets please don't dump me.'

Not that Keith would dump him over it... he probably doesn't care a whole lot about this prom thing, but it's kind of a big deal. Especially because it's almost their year and three quarters anniversary and this can be a trial run for the whole romantic night thing that Shiro still has to plan for them.

Their real anniversary was pretty cool, but sometimes Shiro wishes that he'd been a little more patient and not asked Keith out at midnight when he turned fifteen, since now he doesn't get as many days to shower him in love... and he has to share his boyfriend on their anniversary, which is fair, since his parents kinda had him first and all.

Still, he's definitely picking a better day when they get married and then they can move the anniversary to that date.

Not that he's thinking about getting married... he's only seventeen, and Keith's still sixteen. That would be just...

Okay, so maybe he's thinking about it, but only in a distant 'wow I really love him and I totally hope I don't fuck this up and also we need to change our anniversary date' kind of way.

Not like... you know... he hasn't gone out and bought a ring or anything.

His job doesn't pay enough for the one he wants.

Not that he's looking.

…

The tickets are still there when he pats his chest pocket again, the paperclip clinking against the extra button on the inside of his jacket with the motion. He's grateful for so many layers – he definitely won't be able to sweat through all of them this time, even if the lights in the venue are turned all the way up.

Which would be super awkward, but he's heard of so many prom horror stories that he felt the need to take precautions.

The smile he aims at the mirror one last time looks nervous, which is stupid. It's just a dance, and they've been together for a while now, and it's not like Keith is going to be disappointed no matter what happens tonight. His boyfriend is probably the most easy-going person in the world – their first real date ended with ice cream all over both of them because Shiro got so nervous when Keith leaned in to kiss him that he squeezed his cone too hard and it shattered and splattered them both in hunka-chunka-pb-fudge.

Keith keeps the t-shirt on display in his closet as a trophy from that day, stain and all.

Shiro keeps the the memory of Keith's ringing laughter against his lips. He couldn't have asked for a more perfect first real kiss, even if he was sticky and embarrassed as hell, especially not when Keith had given him half a dozen more as they were trying to wipe up the chocolate smears before Mrs. Krolia saw them covered in Keith's birthday dessert.

Needless to say they'd gotten a lot of good-natured cheek pinching and knuckle rubbing that day from Keith's parents, which they probably deserved after they staggered downstairs with bags under their eyes because they'd been awake well into the night just smiling at each other and holding hands in their joint sleeping bag... _as boyfriends._

Really, if they can survive Mr. Tex's painfully informative “Chickadees & Bumblebees” chat on safe sex they'll probably make it through prom regardless of whatever actually goes on tonight. It can't be worse than Mrs. Krolia rolling a condom down a sweet potato that Shiro just knows went into dinner later.

He just has to make it that long without making a fool of himself – which is easier to do now than it was the last time they had to do something like this. He's finally grown into his limbs, which means less flailing and maybe accidentally stepping on Keith's feet and more uh... well, he can still definitely tuck Keith all the way under his chin now, and it's still _something._ He tries not to think about what else that means, especially cause Keith is only sixteen, and he's only seventeen, and he really _really_ doesn't wanna mess anything up by pushing him into something... especially when all they've done is some making out and uh... above the clothes stuff. Which he knows their parents totally wouldn't believe, but he's pretty sure his heart would explode and he'd die instantly if Keith was naked in front of him. It's bad enough when they have gym class together and they have to change and he's just all right there and sweaty in his boxer briefs, and he's _so_ pretty, and then Shiro has to basically slap himself in the crotch to keep from making a fool of himself and-

Yeah... they're taking it at their own pace. Which just happens to be, well...

They did say that the turtle won the marathon in that fairy tale, and Shiro is counting on it. He wants a marathon with Keith... he wants this prom, and maybe next year if this year is cool, and college and a house and a dog and all that stuff that goes along with being in love... he wants Keith, for the whole marathon, however long it takes to get to each checkpoint.

But he also wants tonight to go well, because he's pretty sure that every high school movie ever says that this is like _the night_ for couples, and if Keith thinks he's super lame tonight maybe he'll start to reevaluate the past year and almost three quarters.

Probably not, but... it _could_ happen, and Shiro's hair just will _not_ stay slicked back, so that's already a strike against the night.

Keith probably won't care though, he likes to run his fingers through Shiro's hair anyway, so maybe it'll work in his favor and Keith will just touch him all night.

“Shiro! Your knight in shining armor just pulled into the driveway!” his mom's voice floats up the stairs, instantly triggering the sweating he's nearly certain that he's prepared for. Shiro was gonna drive them there this time, since Mrs. Krolia's truck doesn't really have enough seats for them to be comfortable and neither one of them wanted to do the whole limo thing even though their friends are doing it – just in case it's actually super lame and they want to leave early.

Plus his mom set up this whole thing in the living room to get pictures of them before they go, which meant they both had to be here at some point, even though they're probably sleeping over in Keith's room like usual.

“Thanks, mom!” he yells back down the stairs, giving up on smoothing his floof back and settling on smoothing the front of his vest down instead. He hesitates in front of the mirror for a moment, gnawing on his lip as he waffles on whether or not to keep the suit jacket on... his mom will probably want pictures without it, and he doesn't want to get too hot before they even leave the house...

The jacket comes off, leaving him in the deep purple dress shirt and the extra snug vest. It'll have to do for now.

He patters down the stairs, hoping to beat his mom to the door, but he can already hear her greeting Mrs. Krolia and Keith as he hits the landing.

“Awww, you look so handsome!” she coos, no doubt pinching Keith's cheek like she got his earlier, “Just wait until Shiro sees you...”

“Kid cleans up nice doesn't he?” Shiro can hear the tease in Mrs. Krolia's voice, no doubt ruffling Keith's hair if the growl right after her chuckling is any indication.

“Mooooom,” Keith whines as he slinks around the corner with a pout, “I'm going to find-”

“ _Keith-”_ Shiro squeaks out, eyes wide as Keith comes fully into view. He looks good... better than good. Like every idle fantasy Shiro has ever had about suits and altars and everything in between. His shirt is crimson, as is their custom by now, and the vest that he has on cinches his tiny waist _just right_ and Shiro could probably wrap his hands all the way around it and lift him up and- “H-hi.”

“Hey, Shiro.”

The smile that blooms across Keith's face stops his heart for a beat before sending it pounding double-time. He's so pretty... he looks so _happy_ – and it's a smile just for Shiro. God, he's so fucking lucky.

“Keith, you look... wow.”

It's not the right words – it's really barely even words at all, but Keith takes his hand when he holds it out and steps in close, like he understands anyway.

“You look pretty 'wow' yourself, big guy.” Keith looks him up and down, eyebrows rising appreciatively as he smooths his free hand down Shiro's vest. “Did you get buffer?”

Shiro can feel the blush rising to his ears. “The vest is a little tight.”

“Lucky me,” Keith mutters, almost to himself, and steps in close under Shiro's chin. “I'm gonna ogle you all night.”

Shiro can only bury his flaming cheeks in his boyfriend's hair as he wraps an arm around his waist. Keith is always so vocally appreciative – even before Shiro got his braces off or started really going to the gym. It always blows his mind a little, that he has someone so handsome and smart and just... _perfect_.

“M'gonna ogle you more,” Shiro croaks into his hair, trying to keep his voice steady as he looks down Keith's back. His dress slacks are doing some work tonight, and it's going to make Shiro sweaty for an entirely new reason. “You always look good though.”

“Gotta stay pretty for you,” Keith jokes, muffled into his shoulder as he strokes his free hand across Shiro's waist. “We can't all be built like a brick house.”

“You're perfect,” Shiro insists, pulling back to look into those beautiful eyes that he loves so much.

Keith only cracks a smile in response, cheeks dusting pink as he winks up at him.

“I see they've found each other,” Mrs. Krolia drawls from the doorway, one eyebrow cocked as she bumps a hip into Shiro's mom, “You two make a handsome pair.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Shiro smiles at her over the top of Keith's head, making sure his hands are appropriately at waist height and then raising them up another inch, just in case. “He looks beautiful.”

“Shiiirrroooo,” Keith whines again, thunking his head into Shiro's chest with a grumble. “You're the beautiful one.”

“Well _I_ think you're both cute,” his mom declares, planting her hands on her hips like a tiny general, “now go stand over there so I can document this to go with your wedding photos.”

Keith's cheeks go fire-engine red in about two seconds, but he dutifully tugs Shiro over by the hand without a peep in response. His smile could almost be shy if it didn't look like it was going to crack his cheeks, and Shiro is eternally grateful to his mom that she snaps a few candid shots on the way. He already knows that he's probably going to get sniffly over them later... the man he loves looking at _him_ like _that._

“How do you want us to stand?” he asks absently, not taking his eyes off Keith's beautiful face as he steps in close and cups his cheek. Keith tips to nuzzle into his palm automatically, lashes fluttering as he looks up at Shiro, and the camera shutter clicks away in the distance.

Keith's smile grows by another set of molars as he stretches onto his toes to brush Shiro's stubborn floof back. “Did you try to gel it again?”

“...maybe.” He activates his best puppy eyes as he pouts down at Keith, letting the floof flop back with a shake of his head. “Is it cute?”

Long fingers grasp his lapels as Keith hauls himself up to press a kiss to Shiro's nose.

“You're always cute.”

Shiro can feel his ears steaming as he wraps his arms around Keith's waist and lifts him to his toes to press their foreheads together. “I always love you.”

“Krols, I can't _stand_ it.” His mom is sniffling as she snaps away, slinking back and forth to get the best angle. “These two... our precious babies all grown up-”

“Awww, _moooomm_ -”

“She's right, kiddo.” Krolia laughs and waggles her fingers at them. “You two are so sweet I might need to see a dentist after this.”

“Good.” Keith sticks his tongue out at his mom, wrapping his arms even tighter around Shiro's waist. “See if I buy you dentures when you're in the home.”

“Oohooo, boy's got jokes!” Her grin is a twin to her son's as she nudges her friend with an elbow. “Make sure you get a couple embarrassing ones so I can blow 'em up poster size.”

His mom nods, all impish as she gleefully clicks away. “We can get matching sweaters with their sappy goo-goo eyes all over them.”

Shiro ignores them, preferring to preserve the tattered remnants of his dignity. “Keith, I don't know how we turned out so wonderful and well adjusted, do you?”

“Must be our dads.” Keith nods into his chest with a solemn air. “You know, the people who would never do this to us...”

“Jokes on you, twerp.” Krolia wiggles her cell phone at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Your old man is gonna cry for hours when he sees these photos, he's been rooting for romance since you tried to hide that copy of Sports Illustrated under your mattress.”

“I wanted to read about boxing!” Keith whines, burying his flaming face in Shiro's armpit. “I wasn't doing anything with it!”

“It's okay, Keith,” Shiro soothes as he rubs a hand down Keith's back. “Remember when my dad tried to offer me hobby magazines on woodworking cause he thought I might like lumberjacks?”

“I wore plaid _one time_ -”

“You looked so cute in it,” Shiro sighs, swiping a thumb across Keith's cheek. “I would follow you into the woods any day.”

The shutter goes off in a flurry across the living room. “That's always what you want to hear your kid saying,” his mom grunts as she waves a hand at them, “step to the side a little... by the flowers.”

“Yes ma'am.” Keith unwinds himself and shuffles dutifully to his left, then he turns around in Shiro's arms and grins at her. “Classic prom pose?”

Now those wonderful slacks are pressed right up against him, and Shiro just _knows_ his mom is going to turn the contrast up on these photos to make his ears as red as possible. He can feel it in his bones... it's just about the only other thing he can feel past Keith's wiggling in front of him.

“Are we almost done?” he squeaks, clamping Keith tight in an effort to save himself from utter mortification when they pull apart, “I don't want us to be late...”

“Just a few more – try smooching!” his mom commands, squinting at them over the top of the camera that's nearly as big as she is, “I want to be able to feel my teeth rotting when I look at these.”

Keith snorts, but turns back and cocks an eyebrow at Shiro – all smirky and dangerous in that familiar way that lets Shiro know they're about to do something terribly unwise.

And then there's a tongue in his mouth and a hand grabbing his ass, shocking a startled moan out of him as he reflexively crushes Keith to his chest with a hand low across his hips. He can feel the impish grin against his lips but his brain is a four alarm fire screaming that this is a terrible idea, and he cannot for the life of him think why-

“Auugh!”

_Oh_. Right.

His hands yank off Keith just about as fast as he can move them, but of course his boyfriend pulls away at his own leisurely pace with smolder before turning to their mothers like a satisfied cat. “Like that?”

Mrs. Krolia sighs where she's covering her eyes. “I didn't need to see my grandchildren being made, yanno.”

“Good thing we lack the required equipment,” Keith teases, every inch the instigator Shiro adores.

“Maybe a smooch that people won't try to sell on one of those sketchy dark-web sites,” his mom grunts as Shiro attempts to cringe himself inside out, “you two are cute – I've seen titles that would fit too-”

“ _Mom!_ ” Shiro yelps, horrified and wishing for a localized sink-hole to swallow them. “Just... _no._ ” Then he leans down to give Keith the world's most chaste smooch, like an old lady pecking a favored dog. “There.”

Keith's snort is adorable, especially when he has to press up onto his toes to return the favor to Shiro's cheek. “Happy now?”

“Delighted.” She clicks away a few more times before letting the camera hang back around her neck. “Alright, you two are free to go... but be home somewhere by midnight, okay?”

“Yes, Momma.” Shiro grabs Keith's hand before they can change their minds. “We'll probably stay over at the Kogane's tonight.”

“Should I have Tex get the fort ready?” Krolia teases as they shuffle by, “I bet we've still got enough blankets to fit you both.”

“Only if you'll still feed us snacks,” Shiro quips right back, flashing her a grin as he plucks Keith's suit jacket off the peg, “I hear the food at this type of thing sucks.”

“You got it kiddo... now go have fun and bring my boy back in one piece.”

Keith rolls his eyes as Shiro snaps her a salute, snatching the jacket from his hand.

“Don't worry mom, I'll make sure to break him instead of the other way around.”

Shiro can only sputter out a confused half-protest as he's tugged out the door and into the balmy night, cheeks heating at the sound of hooting laughter through the door behind them.

“Keeeeiiithhh,” he whines, squeezing his boyfriend's hand as he's led to the car, “now they think we're gonna go do... _things._ ”

Keith only shrugs and shoots him that same impish grin over his shoulder. “I mean, that is the cliché, isn't it?”

“I wasn't-” Shiro squeaks out, stumbling over himself as he fumbles with his car keys, “-I mean, I don't _expect_ -”

“Relax,” Keith chuckles as he opens his own door as Shiro unlocks the car – another missed point on the night, “I'm just kidding, I know we're not, uh... doing _that_ tonight.”

Shiro's pretty sure Keith can hear him unclench, but that's okay, at least they're on the same page.

“Haaa, yeaaahhh,” he wheezes as he climbs into the driver's seat, like a weirdo, “I mean... uh... yeaaah. Nooo.”

The hand that plants itself on his is perfectly steady, just like Keith's totally placid and understanding smile. “Don't worry so much about it, we'll get there.”

“I love you,” Shiro blurts instead of anything else coherent. At least it's always true. “So much.”

“I know, Shiro.” Keith gives his hand a squeeze before bringing it back into his lap to let Shiro start the car. “I love you more.”

“Impossible,” Shiro grumbles as he backs out carefully, determined to drive like an old man with his precious cargo beside him.

Keith doesn't argue with him, but Shiro can feel his fond grin without even looking.

It feels like no time at all before they're pulling up in front of the banquet hall the school had booked for their affair, which is probably a good thing since there's only a few parking spots left anyway.

“Good thing everyone else took a limo, right?” Keith grins at him as he climbs out of the passenger side, and he looks ridiculously good even in the weird lighting of the parking lot. Shiro's just glad he didn't have to share a long limo ride getting teased for giving his own boyfriend mushy looks.

He pats his pocket twice, making sure the tickets are still there, then offers an arm out to Keith who loops his own elbow in with a tip of his head.

“This feels familiar.”

“You're still so little,” Shiro grins down at him, tugging Keith in until he's pressed right into his side. The top of his head barely grazes Shiro's chin. “Just as feisty, twice as beautiful.”

“Pftt, awww.” Keith lets himself be squeezed tight and leans in to press a kiss to the hollow of Shiro's throat. “If anyone got twice as beautiful it's you... look at these muscles, I'm practically dating Hercules.”

“It's so I can carry you over all the puddles,” Shiro whispers conspiratorially, “I saw them do it in one of those mushy true love movies once.”

“Well, carry me over this one,” Keith demands, pointing a finger imperiously over at a puddle on the sidewalk no bigger that a dinner plate. His grin is a lecherous thing as he reaches up to squeeze Shiro's bicep.

Ever the faithful servant, Shiro obliges him, scooping Keith into his arms as he takes an exaggerated lunge over the tiny water hazard and underneath the overhanging awning of the banquet hall. If he cared enough to look through the glass he'd see half a dozen of their classmates giggling at them through the front doors, but he's too busy drinking in Keith's laughter as he clutches as Shiro's shoulders.

“Thanks, stud,” he snickers, righting himself as Shiro gently sets him back onto his feet on the carpet. “It's good practice for later, right?”

“Later?” Shiro asks, suddenly afraid he was supposed to learn some fancy dance where he has to dip Keith or something.

“Yeah, you know... when you have to carry me over a different threshold.”

The words are devastatingly casual, like Keith doesn't even care about the destruction to Shiro's higher brain function as he tangles their fingers together and tugs him to the door where their classmates await them. His own pipe dreams are one thing – who hasn't doodled someone else's last name in the margins of their notebooks? Even hearing it from his mom is more of a tease than anything else... but from Keith...

“I... you-” Shiro trips over his words, voice pitched far too high as his palms begin to sweat in Keith's hands. “ _Really?_ ”

Keith just grins at him, winking over his shoulder without giving him a proper response as he pushes through the doors.

“Hey guys,” he calls to the little pocket of their assembled friends, lifting his free hand in a wave as Shiro's brain dribbles out his ears and onto the floor between them, “how was the limo ride?”

“Uneventful, thankfully.” Allura flicks a glance over at Matt, who beams back at her – the picture of innocence in his matching periwinkle vest. “How was your chauffeur?”

“Handsome,” Keith teases as he strokes his thumb over Shiro's knuckles, “but I have a boyfriend, so I didn't make a pass at him.”

“Lucky for me,” Shiro manages to croak with all the elegance of a man functioning on his last two brain cells. Allura cocks an eyebrow at him, but he can only offer a dopey smile in response until his feet touch the ground again.

She sighs and shakes her head, offering an arm out to Matt as she gestures toward the main lobby. “Would you two like to continue being sickeningly sweet inside? Ryan and James already claimed a table for us.”

“I helped too,” Lance cuts in, puffing out his chest as he eyes Keith up and down, “I think that means so far I'm winning the competition for best date.”

“It's not a competition,” Hunk sighs, like he's been repeating the mantra for hours already and is prepared to keep it up all night, “and if it was, Shiro drove Keith here, so he's kinda winning on that front.”

Lance deflates, swaying into Hunk's arms with a dramatic pout. “You're supposed to be on _my_ side.”

Hunk shrugs, but wraps an arm around his waist to haul him along anyway. “I'm not in the running for the non-competition.”

Keith snorts from where he's tucked himself under Shiro's arm again, raising a single skeptical eyebrow in Hunk's direction. “You're the most passively competitive person I know, and you're really gonna tell us that it's not a competition?”

Hunk wiggles his eyebrows, a move he's clearly picked up from the body he's dragging along with him. “It's not a competition because no one else has a chance.”

“Oh?” Lance perks up immediately, clutching his boyfriend's lapels with stars in his eyes. “Does that mean you're cooking tonight?”

“Stop trying to ruin your surprise,” Hunk admonishes, leaning to peck him on the nose, “I told you you're not finding out until afterward.”

“So I guess that rules out an afterparty?” Shiro asks, glancing between his friends with what he hopes is an appropriate amount of disappointment as his brain comes back online, “I'd be okay with turning in early.”

“Laaaaame.” Lance sticks his tongue out at them, like his own boyfriend didn't just confirm they are being equally lame tonight.

Matt throws a glance over his shoulder and shakes his head, jerking his free thumb at Allura.

“No afterparty here – the princess turns into a pumpkin by eleven, or so I've been told.”

“You know my dad just told you that so we'd be home by like one, right?” Allura laughs, squeezing his arm when Matt grimaces at her.

“I'm not risking it, I'm pretty sure him and your uncle wouldn't bat an eye at burying my body somewhere.”

Which honestly is a pretty fair assessment. Shiro has seen those two give Matt the kind of scrutinizing looks that could peel paint off a car from a quarter mile away. He once saw Coran polishing some sort of weird embellished blow dart tube that he's pretty sure is used exclusively for assassinations in the movies – and, as annoying as Matt can be, Shiro would prefer to see him stay alive.

Plus he's Keith's other best friend, so Shiro's pretty much legally obligated to keep his girlfriend's parents from killing him.

“Well, Keith and I were hoping for a nice night in, right sweetheart?” Keith nods next to him, beaming like an evening spent cuddling in a blanket pile is all he could ever want out of his prom night. “So feel free to return her to her castle on time.”

He gets a finger gun in response as the couple disappears into the dimly lit main ballroom – which instantly gives Shiro flashbacks to the old gym and strobe light setup they'd had last time.

Grinning, he nudges Keith with an elbow and leans down to mutter, “Do ya think they got Matt's dad up there on a ladder again this year?”

Keith snorts and nudges him back with a look, “He's getting kinda grey, I hope they at least gave him a drone.”

They needn't have worried, this venue is far nicer than the crash mats strung with fairy lights of their youth, and no one even checks his tickets. There's some sort of projector beamed onto the ceiling giving the effect of a starry night sky, a nod to this year's _Love You to the Moon and Back_ theme, which everyone said was cheesy, but Shiro privately thought was adorable. Maybe they just didn't have someone to love like that... he loves Keith at _least_ out toward Pluto and all its icy moons.

Either way, it's pretty swanky. There's a whole not quite buffet set up where they can grab a dinner that looks surprisingly edible – though he'll probably wait for Hunk's verdict – and there's an array of punch bowls off to the side being guarded by Mr. Coran, who appears to be taking his job extra seriously as he gestures two fingers between his eyes and passing students. Shiro hopes for Matt's sake that he doesn't realize Allura has arrived and turn those eye daggers on them. Even the table cloths are nice, navy blue satiny things covered in silver centerpieces and little star shaped confetti.

Honestly, he's about two seconds from melting into an excited puddle, the aesthetic is _perfect_ for them, like it was a night meant just for him and Keith – and judging by the awed smile on his boyfriend's face, he's not alone in his assessment.

“Wow,” Keith breathes, neck craned toward the ceiling as Shiro leads them over toward a table in the corner where Ryan and James are already seated and waving. “I gotta get one of those things for my room...”

Shiro makes a mental note to find one before their anniversary, he can probably afford it... he's been picking up extra hours bagging groceries at one of the local shops just in case he finds something nice... or something shiny.

“We can put it in the fort,” Shiro agrees as he squeezes Keith's hand, “and then use it if we ever have ceilings too high to put up sticky stars.”

“You two planning on moving in together already?” James asks as they approach, one eyebrow arched high.

Keith shrugs, not the least bit flustered as he settles into the chair Shiro pulls out for him. “I mean, eventually.”

“Pffft, _okay._ ” Lance snorts and casts them a skeptical look. “I bet Shiro has your house picked out already... nice little white picket fence, yard for a dog, big bedr- _ow!_ ”

“Be nice,” Hunk warns him, hand hovering at the ready to flick his ear again. “What was our rule tonight?”

Lance mutters under his breath, shoulders hiked up to his ears.

“That's right... no needling.” One broad palm settles on Lance's neck in a way that reminds Shiro of a yappy dog wearing a shock collar, but his friend relaxes instantly under the touch. “And you'll get your reward if you're good.”

Shiro is starting to get the feeling the reward isn't just food, and _that's_ quite enough of that.

“Anyway!” He clears his throat, grimacing over at Matt who is wearing a similar face of curious horror. “How about that menu... does anyone know what they're serving tonight?”

“I think it's beef stroganoff in one of the lines,” Kindade offers with jerk of his thumb, “which is gonna look great later when I spill it on my slacks... just a nice brown splatter so everyone thinks I shat myself.”

“Don't worry babe,” James soothes with a hand resting on his forearm and a flutter of his eyelashes, “I'll shit myself too so we can be social outcasts together.”

“Or!” Hunk chimes in with a manic grimace, “We could all just have something that didn't probably come from a can... there was chicken on the menu right?”

“Only if you like salmonella,” Matt mutters, his face scrunching up as he shudders, “I haven't had anything even tangentially related to school chicken since they served those half frozen and half raw chicken patties in sixth grade.”

Keith nods along sympathetically, and Shiro recalls that his boyfriend had also been a victim of the Great Patty Incident. Fortunately, he'd been going through a vegetarian phase at the time and was perfectly content with his salad that probably only had E. Coli or something else on it.

Either way, it appears that the consensus is no chicken.

“Well, the salad and fruit bar looks good at least,” Allura chimes in, ever the optimist, “and _ooh_ , look at all those desserts!”

“None are half as sweet as you.”

Shiro can't stifle his groan as Matt leers at his girlfriend, one hand pressed to his heart like he's in some terrible cartoon. Across the table James and Lance are making gagging noises at each other as Kinkade tries admirably to keep a straight face between them – not that Matt has the sense of shame to appreciate his restraint.

Even Keith looks vaguely ill at Matt's efforts, casting Shiro a sidelong glance that reads like a cry for help.

“Hey, um... the dance floor looks like it's pretty neat,” he offers as a lifeline, weak as it is, “maybe we could actually dance for real this year?”

“If you want to.” Keith shrugs a single shoulder with that crooked grin of his, but pushes back out of his chair and takes Shiro's hand. “I've been practicing since eighth grade though, you're gonna have to keep up with my new and improved hug and sway.”

“Can't wait,” Shiro breathes, suddenly giddy at the prospect of holding Keith in his arms and dancing for real. He's glad his mom made him practice with her in the living room now – first a simple box step and then moving into a few weirder fancy things that he's not quite sure he could pull off without embarrassing both of them. He'll have to thank her when he gets home...

But then they step onto the dance floor and Keith turns to face him, pure mischief in his eyes as he clasps Shiro's hand and shoulder in perfect form.

“Shall we?”

And they're off, stepping off-beat to some crooning love song, but together all the same. Shiro can't help the incredulous laughter the burbles out of him as he beams down at his boyfriend, who is clearly pleased with himself.

“Did your mom give you lessons too?”

The laughing nod looks so good on Keith. “Who do you think gave your mom the idea?”

Shiro shrugs, not breaking step as he spins them around. “I figured she's scheme-y enough to do it on her own... and here I thought I was going to impress you.”

“You always impress me.” Slim fingers squeeze in his as Keith gazes up at him, all earnest eyes and adoring smile. It's enough to make Shiro worry about swooning and tripping over his own feet.

“You're the impressive one,” he demurs, entirely too aware of the heat in his cheeks and ears. “Did I tell you how handsome you look tonight?”

“Only about a dozen times,” Keith laughs as he presses closer, “but you can keep telling me for the rest of our lives, right?”

“You're going to get so sick of hearing it,” Shiro warns him, dipping low enough to brush their noses together, their smiles almost grazing. “You'll have custom ear plugs made by the time we're fifty.”

“The neighbors are gonna be the ones with the custom earplugs.”

The delivery is so smooth, so _casual_ that Shiro doesn't get it for a heartbeat... then the corner of Keith's lips quirk up into something feisty and all the blood in his body is torn whether to flood his face or southward at the insinuation.

“ _Keith!”_ he squeaks, eyes like saucers as they dart around to make sure no one else heard the demise of his dignity, “you... you menace!”

Their dancing stutters to a halt as Keith throws his head back cackling, and he's beautiful... even when he's teasing the hell of out Shiro.

“Your faaaace!” Keith giggles as he pulls his hand off Shiro's shoulder to wipe at his eyes. “Oh my god, Shiro... I don't think I've seen someone go from confused to horny to mortified in less than a second before.”

“A menace,” Shiro grumbles as he bends to let his head thunk down onto Keith's shoulder. “I'm telling Ms. Krolia that you're trying to deflower me.”

“She'd believe you.” Keith shrugs like it's no big deal that his mom thinks they're sleeping together. “I told you there's been a pack of condoms in my dresser from her since I turned sixteen.”

“Well, yeah, but... we don't use them!” Shiro sputters, unsure of who he's trying to convince, but certain someone needs convincing, “We've only like... you know...”

“Yeah, Shiro, I know... I was there.” The eyebrow wiggle is salacious and entirely unnecessary... but damn if it doesn't look good on Keith. “Relax, we're just having fun tonight, remember?” He soothes a hand down Shiro's back and steps into his space, back to the good ol' hug and sway. “I just wanna curl up with you in the fort and hold hands tonight.”

“It's tradition at this point,” Shiro agrees, nuzzling into Keith's hair and breathing deeply.

They sway like that for a few more songs, until some weird house mix comes on and Keith's stomach starts to growl audibly.

“Hungry enough to brave the stroganoff?”

“I dunno about that,” Keith hedges, casting a baleful look at the dining options, “Did Hunk get food yet? I'll probably have whatever he's having.”

Shiro cranes his neck over the modest crowd, trying to get a peek at their table. “I don't think he's eating real food tonight? Not if he said he was making dinner for them later... it looks like he might have a plate of some fruit and snacks.”

“Sounds good to me.” Keith twines their fingers together and marches through the crowd like a little bulldozer, towing Shiro in his wake. He wastes no time loading up a plate full of sweet things and salty snacks before casting Shiro a glance and loading a few extra pickles onto the plate.

“Awww, babe! You don't have to...”

Keith loathes pickles. _Loathes_ them – but he always grabs them for Shiro anyway, even if he grimaces every second they're on his plate and in danger of rolling to contaminate the rest of his food. Shiro stopped trying to suggest that he can just keep them on his own plate a long time ago, it only earns him a reproachful sniff, like he's trying to steal Keith's points in the 'best boyfriend' competition – like he didn't already win that ages ago just being his perfect self.

Still, it's always funny to watch him carry the plates back to the table with the concentration of tightrope walker etched onto his face. He wisely settles himself next to Allura – the person least likely to intentionally smush pickle juice into the rest of his plate out of all the seats open – and beams up at Shiro like a particularly self satisfied puppy.

“Thank you, baby.” Shiro leans down to peck Keith on the forehead, plucking up the dill spears and dropping them onto his own plate without a second glance. A mournful little groan escapes his boyfriend as they roll into the strawberry macaroons, but they're all going to the same place anyway.

Half-chewed conversation flows from there – catching up on the week's gossip and people watching the dance floor. Apparently Zethrid and Ezor came together in a pair of tuxes to make some whole big coming out statement, but everybody thought they'd been together since last year anyway when their _moment_ in the softball dugout happened. Veronica is here with Acxa too, even though she graduated like two years ago – and Lance is clearly hyper-aware of it since he keeps twisting in his seat to send murderous scowls at anyone ogling his sister. It doesn't really help that her dress is slit nearly up to her hip, or that her girlfriend's plunges almost to her navel.

Honestly, Shiro's kinda surprised either of them were even let in the door like that... he's guessing there was some sort of trench coat bait and switch and nobody really cares enough to make a stink out of it. Then again, Keith looks more tempting than anyone else in this room and he got in just fine.

Matt keeps checking his watch like Allura might actually turn into a pumpkin if they stay too long, which would be funny if it didn't make her eyelid flutter every time he surreptitiously turns his wrist upward.

“Are you not having a good time?” she finally snips, sighing as he sheepishly tucks his arm beneath the table and shakes his head.

“No! No, that's not... of course I am,” he scrambles to assure her, looking as pained as Shiro has ever seen him, “It's just... your dad is kinda terrifying.”

Heads bob in agreement all around the table. Alfor looks a little like an ex mafia boss that took up a retirement job modeling for Better Homes & Gardens. Every time they get together as a group over at her house Shiro feels like he should be dusting his fingerprints off the couch cushions and leaving some sort of hospitality tax by the door. It's not like he can blame Matt for being paranoid.

“Yeah, not for nothing, Allura... but, uh...” Hunk grimaces and shakes his head. “I mean, if I had to get you home by a certain time and you weren't in the house by at least an hour before that deadline, I'm pretty sure I'd be afraid to wake up without my kneecaps.”

That one earns a perfectly royal pout, but he's not wrong.

“Well, I guess we don't have to stay then,” she sighs, shoulders drooping as she glances toward the exit.

Matt looks terribly torn, gnawing on his lip as he weighs his safety against her happiness. Shiro can feel Keith's hand squeeze his own in reassurance, and realizes he's practically on the edge of his seat from the prom-drama of it all.

“Well, how about we dance?” Matt offers instead, apparently deciding that he doesn't need his kneecaps too badly. “A gorgeous lady like you should be shown off, right?”

It's the right move. Allura perks right up, practically vaulting from her seat in her haste to make it to the dance floor in time for whatever bubblegum pop just came on.

“It was nice knowing you,” Keith informs Matt solemnly, one hand pressed to his heart. “I'll make sure he doesn't desecrate your corpse too badly.”

“Can it,” Matt grumbles as he strides past, “not all of us get to snuggle up with Prince Charming tonight and live happily ever after.”

“Nah, but I do.” Keith snarks right back, all Cheshire grin as he leans into Shiro's side and stuffs a cookie into his mouth.

Shiro loves him so much.

Even with the smears of chocolate around his mouth and crumbs sprinkling down onto his vest. Adorable.

One by one their friends get up to dance or mingle with their classmates, leaving them sitting alone together, hand in hand as they munch on snacks. It's pretty much the perfect way to spend this type of event, if you ask Shiro.

“Ina's dress looks neat,” he comments idly, noting the way the geometric pattern seems to swoop and swirl as she moves hand in hand with Nadia.

“Yeah... I don't think I've ever seen her laugh that much.” Keith is smiling over at them when Shiro looks at him, but catches Shiro's gaze through his lashes and redirects that pretty grin upward. “Is that what I look like around you?”

“Beautiful? Always.” Shiro scoots his chair impossibly closer, like the upholstered edges aren't already pressed together. “I know my mom always teases me for my moony face when you come over.”

“I love your face.” It's a declaration as much as it's a protest the way it comes out, all jutting pout and stubborn set to his jaw. “And the moon is pretty, so it makes sense that you'd look like it.”

Shiro isn't sure that's how that works, but he _is_ pretty sure that it's the closest thing to poetry Keith has ever gifted him. He wants to write sonnets for the man beside him, like those big sappy ones in English class in the stories where people hopefully don't die at the end... which kinda makes him wish he'd read to the end of the book so he knows which ones are safe to think about Keith.

Settling for a tight squeeze of his fingers seems a little pale in comparison, but he feels like he should get points for eating left handed all the time so they can hold hands and forks at the same time.

Eventually they run out of snacks and Shiro keeps getting caught smiling at Keith's profile like a big ol' dope more times than is probably cool.

“D'ya wanna dance more?” he burbles out in an attempt to answer Keith's quirked eyebrow after being caught staring _again_.

“Sure,” Keith shrugs and stands up, taking Shiro's hands right there without bothering to go back into the throng of their classmates who have nearly filled the whole dance floor. “Hug and sway?”

Shiro _loves_ him.

It always makes him feel a little lightheaded to realize that his fingers can nearly touch around Keith's waist, so he avoids the awkward boner possibility and maneuvers Keith into his chest with one hand cradling the back of his head, so he can play with his hair the way he knows Keith loves. Of course, judging by the impish look on his face and the way he presses closer, Keith knows exactly what he's trying to avoid.

Minx.

Up this close his hair smells like the orange blossom shampoo Shiro sees in his shower when he sleeps over, all fruity and sweet and tangy. It makes him wonder if he actually likes oranges, or if he just loves it now because it's all Keith. He wants to roll over and smell it on his pillows every morning for the rest of his life.

“Hey, Keith?” he blurts out before he can think twice about it, his heart threatening to jack-rabbit out of his chest.

“Mm?” Keith nuzzles into his chest and tips his face up, so open and curious and wonderful that he wants to cry a little.

“You um... you smell really good and...” he swallows hard, feeling tongue-tied and kinda stupid as he beats around the bush of feelings he doesn't even know how to vocalize, “...and I really love you. A lot. I love you so much.”

He's lucky that Keith is so easy to read these days, his smile unfurling like a flower in the sun as he squeezes Shiro tight.

“I love you too, Shiro.” Keith assures him, stretching up onto his toes until Shiro bends to meet him half way in a kiss that lingers like honey. “You're mine and I'm yours... always gonna be.”

“Y-yeah,” Shiro agrees, a little misty-eyed as Keith brings a hand up to cup his cheek. “Always.”

The music floating around them is no more than a gentle croon, perfect for the glittering ambiance of their little bubble, and Shiro can't help but be glad that they bothered to see what all the fuss was about. Keith seems to be of a similar mind, if the softness in his eyes is any indication. The rest of the room melts away, leaving just the two of them clasped and swaying as they gaze at each other, and it plucks at the chasms of possibility in Shiro's mind.

Someday they'll have this again, but better... sweeter. Someday he's going to have this man in his arms as they sway in front of their family and friends, bound in every way he can manage. He has to swallow past the lump in his throat just thinking about it, and tucks his face back into Keith's hair.

He can't wait.

Later, when their friends have gone and he's driven them back to Keith's house, those thoughts still poke at him. They sit in the driveway, talking in low voices about the future with their hands clasped over the console. There's no hint of nerves to it... no worry about where they'll end up – and why would there be? They can handle anything together.

The feeling carries him until they're curled up together in the pile of blankets under the window, like old times. Keith's breathing has evened into a light snore, and he looks so serene under the glow of the moon through the window. His fingers are curled into Shiro's, and he's got a knee slotted between his legs, like he's trying to get closer even in his sleep.

Shiro can't help but pull him into his chest, sighing at the way Keith noses into his neck, overflowing with adoration.

He closes his eyes, resting in the knowledge that when he wakes – tomorrow and ever after – Keith will be by his side.


End file.
